


The Cave

by mida_malek



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, nerd!dean, punk!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 19:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mida_malek/pseuds/mida_malek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is just... something i wanted to write for my dear friend, Brittany. she's so amazing and since we live so far away i decided to give her this as a birthday gift. Dear Britt, i'm truly sorry for the delay... love you girl!:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my baby Brittany!:)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+baby+Brittany%21%3A%29).



Dean opened his book, trying hard to focus on the boring script and the noise that the kids outside of library were making wasn’t helping him at all. He needed a full A+ for his scholarship to remain untouched.

He tried not to think about what would happen otherwise. He knew his dad expected him to keep the family legacy.

In the long chain of Winchester family there had only been one guy who didn’t do poetry and he had been removed from the family tree so thoroughly that Dean didn’t even know his name.

He was gonna make John proud.

Sometimes he just wished he was like Sammy. Everyone, especially dad treated him like a princess. They were all afraid to break him.

Dean loved Sam so much and he’d die for his brother but sometimes, he wished he wasn’t the first son.

He looked down at the poetry rules, all nothing but blurry words to him.

“Why can’t you just write it different? These rules just make everything sound alike.” Said a deep voice from behind and he turned to face a dark haired guy. He had a sharp lined face, chapped lips and, Jesus Christ, his eyes were so _blue._ ”

He felt himself blush. Shit. This could not be happening to him. “Don’t feel, don’t.feel!! you don’t like _boys_ , remember?” he thought to himself.

“Uh… sorry, what?” he said to the now smirking boy. He was clearly happy with himself.

“I asked, why do you study these rules? I’ve been watching you for a long time now and you seem to hate them just as much as I do.”

This guy was a punk. He had a few tattoos here and there. One ear pierced, black eye-liner and totally messy hair.

“I need to pass it with an A+… Why were you watching me again?” Dean’s heart did a flip. He hadn’t realized that someone was checking him out.

The boy shrugged.

“You looked interesting, I was bored…”

He DID seem bored.

“Well, you got your answer. Now if you excuse me I’d like to get back to my book.” He said in a cold tone.

This douche thought he could fool Dean that easily? He knew it well enough that he was NOT interesting. Not with his geeky glasses, tucked light blue shirt and definitely not with this hair style. He hated it when he had to flatten his hair to one side.

“What’s up in your ass?” the boy said with a bigger smirk, sitting by his side.

“Your attitude. Go away! I got studying to do.” Dean growled.

“Is this a private spot? Or an ‘assholes only’ spot? As far as I know this is school property and I can be anywhere I want.” He stuck his tongue out.

Alright, Dean had had enough. He took his book and bag, standing up.

“Then I’ll leave.” He wanted to leave when a cold hand grabbed his wrist.

“Hey… look, I’m not just some random asshole, ok? I just… look I like you, and I know I’m frowned upon, but maybe, you wanna be friends? I’m kinda bored.”

“Look, you and I have nothing in common. And you have your punk friends. I’m sure you’re only here because of some stupid dare. I’m not a kind of person that you’d like.”

“Wow, you’re the first person I saw who managed to insult both me and himself in one sentence.”

Dean tried not to smile.

“Screw you!” he pulled his hand away and got out of the library.

*                      *                      *

Castiel stepped in the dorm, looking for room 17. Dean was in there. Dean… his name was Dean. It was stupid how he, after all these years of not caring for anyone had started to care for this pretty nerd.

It’s just he couldn’t shake this feeling that there was more to this boy than the nerd everyone saw.

Castiel was sure Dean hated this stupid shit just as much as he did. He couldn’t let the guy go to waste.

So he knocked on the door three times, and then stood there waiting as sounds of shuffling came from the other side of the door, followed by a muffled “Coming.”

The door opened revealing a completely different Dean Winchester than what Cas had seen.

Cas couldn’t help but stare at the messy hair, the too green sleepy eyes, and the black AC/DC t-shirt.

“Hey, I’m looking for a Dean Winchester?” he joked as the boy stared at him coldly.

“Go away. I’m studying.” The boy said before going to close the door. Cas put his foot in the way pushing it open.

“Wait, look I just wanna talk alright?”

Dean gave him a look. “Do you really see ME spending time with YOU?”

Cas tried not to be hurt.

“Dean… why do you have to act like an assbutt?”

Dean couldn’t hold back his laugh at the weird insult. And dear god help Cas, it was so… cheerful. It was the best sound he had ever heard.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I just… you’re not messing around cause of a dare are you?”

Cas’ eyes went wide and Dean took that as a no. He stood back and looked at the guy.

“Alright, come in then… I don’t even know your name yet dude.”

“Castiel. My name is Castiel.” Cas said as he got in the clean room. This looked nothing like his room.

“Castiel? That’s just a weird name dude.”

“My parents were weird Christians, it’s an angel’s name.”  He looked around, the tidy clothes and all.

“Why are you so… clean?”

Dean chuckled.

“Family rules.”

Castiel crocked a brow.

“Why are you so set on rules? Poetry rules, family rules… what do you have like a peeing rule too?”

Dean shrugged.

“Don’t know, wanna make my family proud...”

“By being someone else? By playing a role?”

“Why do you think this is not me? You don’t even know me!” Dean was getting angry again.

“Well for one, you get offensive when I say it and second, dude, you’re wearing AC/DC.”

Dean just shrugged going to get his book from the bed, he closed it and put it on the desk.

“Want anything to eat?” he asked his cold tone back.

Castiel sighed.

“Look, why don’t we go out for a beer? Or a coffee. Whatever you want.”

“Why again?”

Castiel looked into his eyes as if he could read and see right through his soul.

“I think we both know why.” He winked.

‘Dammit Dean, get a grip boy.’ He could hear his dad’s voice in his head.

‘Oh fuck it! There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun.’ Sam’s voice answered in his head.

“Alright, I’ll get ready.”

“Woah woah! What do you mean ready? You’re ready now. Don’t wear something formal dude. And I like your hair more when it’s like this.” Castiel smiled warmly.

Dean knew right then he was in trouble. This guy was getting past his walls and Dean didn’t even want to stop him. it felt good to be seen.

“fine… lets go.”

*                      *                      *

It took Dean exactly 3 Thursdays to fall for Cas. It was pure, warm… he didn’t regret loving Cas…

Cas was always around, Dean always felt his warmth. And even when he wasn’t there, if there was a second of Dean needing him, he would appear by his side.

Sometimes Dean felt like Cas had magical powers.

He couldn’t remember ever laughing so much in his life. The year was almost finished and they were getting close to finals but for the first time in forever, Dean didn’t care.

They had to be careful. If people found out they were more than friends… Dean got cold sweat all over his body even thinking about it.

The last Sunday of May, Dean was awoken by hard banging on his door.

“Dammit people it’s Sunday. Let a guy sleep!!” But the banging didn’t stop. Eventually he gave up on ignoring it and got up to open the door.

He was not expecting what he saw.

Cas was standing there in some weird caving suit.

“What the hell has gotten into you?”  Dean asked lost.

Castiel pushed him inside and closed the door behind him.

“Get ready Dean. I have a surprise for you. You wanted to go somewhere that we could be ourselves? I’m taking you today.”

“You can’t possibly think I’ll go to a freaking cave with you dude. We might DIE!”

“Dean you can’t die in a cave! Don’t be stupid. It’ll be alright.”

Dean looked at his bed longingly.

“I wanted to sleep today!”

Castiel smiled and walked closer, palming his cheek.

“Don’t be a baby Dean. I promise you it’ll be fun. Just take warm clothes. And a flashlight. And wear boots.” He kissed Dean’s cheek and pushed him in the bathroom.

“But first brush your teeth so I can kiss you.”

“oh screw you Cas.”

What was this guy doing to him?

*                      *                      *

“Dean, don’t put your foot there you big idiot. It’s not stable.”

“Oh and that wet ass rock you’re standing on IS?”

“Yes! It is. Now stop insulting my caving abilities and just let me get you to the good part. Alive!”

“I thought you said I can’t die here?”

“Well I gave you too much credit! Just step where I do ok?”

“Fine!!”

Why did Dean even like this guy? They were always fighting.

“Pfff.”

“Hey! You should show me some respect! Do not ‘pfff’ me mister. Or I will let you fall and die.”

“You would never! You’d be lost without me!” Dean stuck out his tongue.

“Assbutt!”

“Bitch!”

“shshshs! You’re disturbing the bats!”

“You shshsh!”

“My god Dean! I’m sorry I didn’t let you sleep ok? Now will you just work with me?”

Dean smirked pleased with himself.

“Apology accepted. Where are you taking me anyway?” Dean said as he put his foot where Cas’ had been a moment ago.

“Annahita’s temple.”

“The fuck? Who’s Annahita?”

“She was the ancient god of water. You’ll see why it’s called that when we get there.”

*                      *                      *

“Shit Cas… this is…” Dean was lost for words. The ‘Temple’ was a hole in the cave, with full on stalagmites and stalactites. But that wasn’t what made it beautiful. Or the fact that you could actually use the place as a house. At the very bottom of it, there was a little pool, couldn’t be deeper than 10 inches.

The stalactite above it was still dropping water in it. The only voice you could hear was the drops hitting the surface of water.

“Sit here, this had been a stalagmite years before , but for whatever reason it’s broken and now it’s a beautiful chair.” Cas smirked.

Dean sat on the rock and couldn’t answer Cas, too occupied with staring at the beautiful site.

Cas sat beside him on the floor and leaned in to smell his hair.

“Told ya it was worth it.”

“Mhm…”

“Now turn off your flashlight. And be quiet.”

“Yes mom.”

Dean did as he was told and for the first few seconds all he could think of was ‘this is stupid’ and ‘I could be spending my time studying’.

Then he decided to shut up his brain and get lost in the sound of the water drops. The only sounds he could hear beside that were Cas’ and his own heartbeat. It was peaceful and beautiful. He felt calmer than he had in years. He felt like he wanted to write poems. Not the ones by those stupid rules… he wanted to write his own stuff. He wanted to break free from the boundaries. He hadn’t felt like this in years and something told him that Cas was the reason he was having these feelings again.

 _“_ _What thoughts I have of you tonight, for_ _I walked down the side streets under the trees with a headache, self-conscious looking at the full moon.”_

  
He was thinking out loud again. Crap. And of all the stuff he could say he had to go with Allen Ginsberg.

Just when he was panicking, he felt Cas scooting a bit closer and lying down putting his head in Dean’s lap.

 _“_ _In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went_

_into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!_

_What peaches and what penumbras!”_

Dean felt his breath catch. Shit. Cas knew the poem… he didn’t even dare to breathe. He was afraid he would give away his desire to just push his fingers through Cas’ hair. The desire to talk, know more.

“Aren’t you going to say the rest? Or maybe the great Dean Winchester doesn’t know the whole poem?”

Dean blushed. Ok that was full on a challenge.

_“Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes! and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons? I saw you…”_

  
Dean stopped himself there. What was he doing here? What was he doing with this boy? He belatedly realized he had given in to his desire and was now stroking Cas’ dark hair.

Cas looked up at him through his dark long lashes. He was breathtakingly beautiful even in the blunt light of Dean’s florescent watch. This was not fair.

_“I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas?”_

  
Had he stopped there on purpose? Dean thought it was kinda ironic. Maybe Cas WAS his angel. His savior. Dean hated his life the way it was. Yes, he was the best in his major, his dad was proud, but he wasn’t happy. And now, for once in a long time he felt happy…

 

_“Are you my Angel?”_

 

Dean whispered and Cas suddenly sat up.

 

“I’m no angel Dean… I’m very far from that…”

 

Dean took in a deep breath. How did Castiel do it? It was like he could read

 

Dean’s mind like a billboard sign.

 

He smiled shyly. This was so not what he was supposed to be doing right now but he could care less about anything but the blue eyes staring in his.

 

_“Are you my Angel?”_

 

He repeated. Castiel smiled this time and tilted his head to side, as if he was amused.

 

“Do you want me to be?”

 

“What? Mine? Or an angel?”

 

Castiel grinned and moved a bit closer.

 

“Both?”

 

Dean could swear his heart was beating too fast to be healthy. Cas was SO close. He could feel his breath on his lips. He expected Cas to kiss him. it would be the best moment if he was planning on it. But Cas didn’t. And that was when Dean realized it.

 

He was supposed to decide what he wanted. Cas had given him the choice. He wouldn’t take another step.

 

What was he supposed to do now? If he did this, he wouldn’t have anyone but himself to blame later, but if he didn’t… could he not do it? Did he want to?

He decided he needed more time. He just sighed and dared to lie down, putting his head in Cas’ lap this time. He smelt so good.

 

_“I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective. We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy,_

_and never passing the cashier.”_   


Cas said brushing his fingers in Dean’s short hair. Dean felt a muscle deep down in his stomach clench. This felt so good. and apparently Cas understood Dean perfectly well. He didn’t sound offended or hurt.

 

_“Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour.  Which way does your beard point tonight? (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the_

_Supermarket and feel absurd.) Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The_

_trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely...”_

 

Dean felt his breath catch again. He didn’t WANT to be alone tonight. Not anymore. Not now that he knew how it felt to have Cas’ fingers in his hair. He wondered how it would feel to have those long fingers on his body. Touching his lips…

 

“You wont be alone Dean… not anymore. Not if you want me there…” he pulled at Dean’s hair.

 

“Do you?”

 

And this time Dean knew the answer.

 

“Yes… god yes, Cas…” Castiel smiled and kissed his cheek. Dean couldn’t understand… this boy was so different than what he seemed to be. He seemed… like he didn’t care. But this boy… he cared. For some damn reason, he cared about Dean.

 

And damn his life but Dean cared too. He didn’t even know the boy but man, he cared.

 

_“Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage? Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?”_

 

“We will…” Dean said as he intertwined their fingers. He sat straight and leaned closer, taking Cas’ face in his free hand.

 

“Can I…?”

 

And that was all the invitation Cas needed. He closed the remaining space between them and kissed his lips. It was a simple touch of lips but it meant so much. Dean knew there were words of unspoken truths going on between them.

 

Cas knew Dean would be hard to handle and Dean knew Cas was odd.

 

But somehow it just… made sense…

 

 

~Fin~

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is A Supermarket in California by Allen Ginsberg. you should know he inspires me so much. and if you haven't watched "Kill your darlings" please do... it's just perfect... i even cried watching the promo...


End file.
